Prisoner of War
by Hobbit Killer
Summary: In a war against Gondor, Legolas's colony is attacked and he is taken by the enemy. This will contain violence and torture, perfect for all the sadistic weirdos like me out there.
1. Bad Tidings

A/N Okay, I know this is my second new story without updating The Fight Of His Life, but bear with me, I have not abandoned it, it has just reached a lull in the action and I want to start something new. I know that is a bad thing, but I can't help it. Anywho, I hope you guys enjoy this one.

Prisoner of War

Chapter one

Bad Tidings (Yes, I know it's an overused chapter title, but I'm out of originality for tonight.)

Aragorn had been pacing the length of the throne room for the last three hours and had driven Arwen to the brink of insanity. "My Lord, pacing is not going to solve the problems of our people," she said at last, wakening her husband from the worried reverie he had fallen into since Faramir's message that morning.

"Forgive me mellamin, but you would agree that the latest news from Ithilien has been quite disturbing. There hasn't been a concentration of orcs this high since the destruction of the Ring. I fear we may have another war fast approaching us," Aragorn admitted sadly, wishing with all of his heart that what he had just stated were not so.

"But something else troubles you, does it not?" Arwen pressed, placing a hand on her love's shoulder.

"It is just that I have not received Legolas's annual report yet and it was due over two weeks ago. Normally such a discrepancy would not bother me, but a growing sense of unease clouds my heart. I fear that perhaps some evil has befallen the elves that have taken residence within our boarders." Arwen gasped at that, fearful for her kin, especially their young lord that was as a brother to her.

"You don't think some ill has befallen him?" she voiced out her fear, her eyes begging her husband for any denial.

Before he could respond, however, they were disrupted by a commotion in the receiving hall. Someone was speaking frantically in elvish as the guards desperately tried to understand their guest. Remembering the previous statement of her lover, Arwen quickly gathered her skirts and ran towards the receiving chamber, Aragorn following quickly in her wake. 

When the king caught up with his wife, he found her in an animated conversation with an elf. Both faces mirrored the other's fear. Arwen looked as though she would faint at any moment as she listened to the messenger's tale. "What has happened?" Aragorn asked, fearful of the answer he knew he would receive.

"Legolas's colony has fallen. It was the orcs, th..they took him, Estel. They attacked in the dead of night and took him in exchange for the life of a child which they slaughtered before his eyes!" Arwen cried out brokenly, tears streaming down her face. Soon Aragorn's tears joined hers as they both cried in despair over their friend. If ever had Aragorn wished to have been utterly and completely wrong, it was in that moment.

"My Lord?" It was Aragorn's head guard, Antine. "What are your orders Sir?" Aragorn straightened, adopting a regal air that he only used when the hottest anger coursed through his veins, causing Antine to take a step backwards.

"Assemble the guard, we go to Ithilien," he said out loud before mumbling under his breath, "They will have their war, and they will learn the true meaning of wrath, and feel it keenly." Never before had the young soldier seen his king so angry, and quickly left to fulfill the task given him.

"Estel?" Arwen's sweet voice brought him out of his dark mood and fantasies of wringing the necks of all orcs still in existence. "Will you not hear our guests story? He has traveled through much pain and parol to give it to you at his lord's expense and request," she said softly, once again drawing Aragorn's attention to their unexpected guest.

"What is the tale my elven brother wished you to share with me?" he asked the elf softly.

The elf straightened when he was addressed by the King of Men, the pride of the elves that had been forgotten upon his arrival now showing. 

"It happened a little over two weeks ago," the elf began his story. "We had been receiving troublesome reports from the scouting parties and so I, being the lord's butler, had stayed up late into the night as my lord could not find sleep that night and I wished to be at hand in case he required anything, whether he wanted me to do so or not." Aragorn almost laughed at the comment despite the dark mood into which the day had fallen, knowing well his friend's dislike of being weighted on.

_ "If I am able to survive on my own on scouting expeditions into the most southern reaches of Mirkwood in the shadow of Dol Gulder, how is it that they believe I am unable to walk to the kitchens and make myself tea?" Legolas fumed as he waited for the servant to return with his usual cup of tea that greeted him upon his return home from whatever excursion he had been taking part in. Aragorn, who was visiting at the time, could merely chuckle at his friend's scowl._

_ "Oh sure, laugh it up Human, one day it will be your turn to no longer be able to go a single day without people always bothering you about some menial task or issue, and that is the day when I will be the one laughing, enjoying every minuet of your suffering," Legolas had replied smirking at the look of pure horror on his friend's face._

He came out of his reverie when he realized the messenger had continued speaking. "It was that night that the orcs attacked us, in the darkest hour when only myself, Lord Legolas, and the guards were awake. Their numbers were vast, to great for our young colony to handle, but we put up a fight nevertheless. The battle lasted for a long time, despite the odds, but in the end they got the better of us. Those whom they had not killed during the battle were taken and chained together, I was among their number as were our women and children. Well. all except for one, that is. Our lord had not been counted among the living or the dead as of yet, a fact that agitated the orcs to no end. When they had searched every rock and crevice and all the trees in the city and not found him, they conceded to take who that had and tell whatever master they were working for that he had been slaughtered by his people so that he may not give away their secrets. We traveled the span of a week before it happened. Somehow, a sleeping drought had made its way into the water skins of our guards, and as they slept, our bonds were cut by none other than Legolas. Myself and a young elfling that Legolas had taken as his ward when his parents were slain by a roaming pack of orcs as they wandered under the boughs of their new home only months after taking up residence in Ithilien were the last to be freed, and, unfortunately, by that time the mild herb had worn off, and the guards awoke to find all of their captives but two gone, headed towards Faramir's city and the missing prince n their camp. As you could probably fathom, this caused quite a stir and the orcs quickly engaged our savior in combat, and, fighter that he was, he could still not defeat an entire army of the creatures on his own and was soon surrounded. As for myself and the lad, we were all but forgotten and he used that to his advantage, using mind speech to communicate to me the task of bringing our tale to you and receiving your aide. Though I did not wish to leave my lord in those circumstances, I had no choice but to comply his orders. As I took the boy to leave, however, we were confronted by a few very large orcs. I was no fighter, so I hid in the trees, thinking that the child was right behind me. From my perch I watched as the boy was brought before Legolas, who was adamantly proclaiming that he would not be taken alive. At the sight of the boy, he quickly struck up a deal, begging the orcs to release the boy and in exchange, he would give them his freedom. They agreed and at first it seemed that the fiends would live up to their end of the bargain, but creatures of the darkness are seldom trustworthy and it was the same with these. After binding Legolas, and cutting the elfling's bonds, they turned on the child and slit his throat in front of Legolas's very eyes. We both watched as the innocent blood pooled upon the ground and Legolas cursed the orcs in every language he had learned as tears rolled down his face at what he saw as failing, yet at the same time his voice was screaming at me to get out of there and warn you. Unheeding of my own tears I left and am before you now." The elf finished wearily ad with a note of finality. Aragorn closed his eyes, tiredly, mourning the loss of so many firstborn within his own boarders and the grief that was surely assaulting his friend at this time.

Calling a servant to him, he arranged for the elf to be quartered and any wounds that he may have sustained during his captivity or journey be treated. He then called for his best messengers, so that he may gather aide from their friends and to warn them of this new threat. Despite his weariness, Aragorn cold not find sleep that night, and instead stayed up wondering at the fate of his elven brother. "Oh, Legolas, what have you gotten yourself into this time?"

At the same time, somewhere in the forests of Ithilien, an elvish cry pierced the night, soon to be drowned out by the hideous cackle of orcs.

SOOOOOOO? Did you love it? Hate it? (Well if you hate it I'll just ignore you) Are you really pissed that I haven't updated Fight of His Life yet? Tell all by pressing that mystical magical review button at the bottom of the story and send me your comments. I am taking anonymous reviews now, so feel free to submit one.

Peace,

Hobbit Killer


	2. Who is the Traitor?

A/N Okay folks, you asked for it you got it, another chapter of Prisoner of War. 

A note on names, they are not supposed to mean any thing or have any true significance, they are just names that I tried to make sound like they were from Middle Earth. 

Chapter 2

Who is the Traitor?

His scream had left him gasping for air as the burning iron was at last removed from his already wilted back. The brand had actually cauterized some of the wound, causing Legolas extreme agony which he was unable to conceal. Seeing that they had found the mast torturous device so far, the orcs placed the red hot iron across his back again, this time near his spine. It felt worse than being stabbed and hotter than the fire that it had been heated in, and Legolas, to his horror let another scream escape from his bruised lips. The orcs relished in his pain and continued to brand their captive's back until it had turned almost completely black and the elf had lost consciousness, and no attempts to rouse him succeeded.

The elf had been a pain in their behinds ever since they had captured him and killed that kid that kid. He had done nothing but break their limbs, spit in their faces, curse them to Udun and back, and attempt escape anytime he was it enough to do so. His most recent attempt had resulted in the loss of five of their number and three more injured. This was one of the reasons the torture had been especially cruel that night. 

Their master had been especially annoyed with them for their slow progress, if there was any, in breaking he elf do that it would be ready for questioning when they made it back to their hideout, as well as the fact that they had let their prisoners to escape and alert the King of Gondor before they were ready to begin their attack. The fear they had of their master's wrath and the knowledge that it was the elf's doing had caused them to tale their anger out on their newly reclaimed captive, and they took pleasure in every moment of it.

"Why do we have to trouble ourselves with this pest?" an orc whined, kicking the elf lord's prone form as he passed on his way to the fire.

"'Cause the master wants 'im for questioning, you oaf," said another as he inhaled some meat of unknown origin.

"Well what's so special 'bout him? 'Sfar as I can see, he's the same as the rest of them elves, the first orc continued, gesturing towards their prisoner.

"Well, you see, he's an elven lord, and a close personal friend of the king Ellessar, whose land we are waging war on. Isn't that correct, _ Lord_ Legolas?" a smooth voice said, taking the orcs by surprise.

Knowing he had been caught, Legolas reluctantly opened his eyes o face the one that had seen through his ruse. "Voldaril, you traitor! Legolas cried, seeing the last person he had expected.

"Oh come now, My Lord, you've not see me since you left your father's kingdom and that is all you can say to me?" the elf sneered at his former prince. "And besides, My Lord, I have no alliance to these people so I betray no one."

"But what of your alliance with my people, Voldaril? Have you no loyalty to your own kin, or have you been relishing in their slaughter?" Legolas challenged angrily.

"Don't preach to me of loyalty, Your Highness, if any one here qualifies as a traitor it is you. You are the one that abandoned your people during their time of need to fight in the wars of man not I. I was not the one that wasn't there to lead his people into battle alongside his father, who, instead of having his son to back him up, spent his time worried to death over him. And, as if that weren't enough, you had to come back only to take half of our people and move them into the heart of the mortal's kingdoms!" Voldaril ranted before regaining his composure.

"No, My Lord, I am not the traitor here, you are, you and all of those cowards that fled here so that they may be protected by those men that you have befriended. It's to bad, really that they came here," he said in mock regret. "Had they not, they wouldn't have to be a part of this as it is a war against men, not elves."

" But why?" Legolas asked, his anger unabated. "Why wage war against Aragorn, what good may come of it?"

"What good?" Voldaril's surprise actually seemed real when asked the question. "It gives Middle Earth back to our kind, of course, and the elves would have free reign over the land once more as it was in the time before their wretched race defiled this land!" Voldaril shouted, his excitement at the elves reigning over Middle Earth again getting the better of him.

"And you, young prince, are not going to stop me, nor are you going to delay my progress any more." Standing up, he turned his eyes to his faithful servants and then back to Legolas's charred back. "Make his back red once more," he gave the order with a cruel smile as his orcs rushed to do his bidding.

"Enjoy you last night in the woods, Legolas, tomorrow will be the last time you see them for a while." With that he left the camp, chuckling when he heard Legolas's cry of pain as his burned back was sliced open once more.

Okay, there you go, another chapter to feast on. I hope I gave you another torture to wet your appetites, but didn't make it take over the plot of the fic.

WHO IS VOLDARIL? WHY DOES HE HATE MEN SO MUCH? WHY IS HE COMMANDING ORCS? IS HE NUTS? WHAT HAPPENED TO THE OTHER ELVES? ALL WILL SOON BE REVEALED IF YOU REVIEW!

Peace 

Hobbit Killer 


	3. Where are you, Legolas?

A/N Hey people, what's happening? I have to tell you I was rather disappointed at the lack of reviews from the latest chapter. I thought you people wanted to be told all, but I guess you don't want to find out why this elf with a name that sounds a lot like that of a character from Harry Potter wants to destroy all of man kind and what connection he has with Legolas. So to punish you for your lack of interest, I'm going to make you find out some of the answers to my questions whether you want to or not.

I HOPE YOU'RE HAPPY!

Chapter three:

Where are you, Legolas?

"Lord Faramir!" the distressed voice of Beregond, his faithful body guard, startled the former ranger from his sleep. "My Lord, you must come quickly." Wondering at what kind of emergency would cause Beregond to wake him in the middle of the night, Faramir quickly got out of bed and threw on a robe before opening his door to find himself face to face with the man. 

"What is it, Beregond?" Faramir asked irately, not pleased at being woken when they seemed to neither be under attack or have the city caught in fire.

"There is a bunch of elves in the courtyard! They say they are all that is left of their colony," Beregond said in a single breath. When it did not seem to register on his lord's face what he had just said, he continued. "Lord Legolas's colony has been attacked and he is taken!"

"What?" Faramir asked, shock and fear showing on his face. Not allowing his guard to respond, Faramir immediately sprinted towards the courtyard to see if what was said could really be true. Had Legolas really fallen? 

When he made it to the expansive courtyard, his fears were proven true. There were dozens of tired elves standing just within the walls of the city, mostly women and children, the rest were obviously healers or members of the staff, the only warriors among them were badly wounded. Some looked as though they would not live long. One thing was certain, these elves were most definitely from Legolas's colony and they were here seeking protection, a thought that greatly scared Faramir who knew to well the stubbornness of elves when it came to taking care of themselves.

"My Lord?" the question came from a she elf that stood at the front of the large grouping, she had apparently been the one to take charge, and had led her people here. "Will you grant our people safety so that we may tend our wounded and get ready to reclaim what we have lost."

Faramir's head shot up at the she elf's last words. "You may have my protection to heal and rest as long as you wish, but I will not have you leave to battle any one in the state you are now. Nothing you have lost is worth your lives, no matter how valuable it was," Faramir said consolingly, knowing that his words were true, no material wealth was worth one's life.

"Not even our lord's freedom?" she asked angrily, fire in her gaze. "You cannot claim that you would not give your life for the life of your king, why then is it wrong for us to fight to free someone that, to us, is just as important. Especially when he means so much to you as well, or was your friendship merely a ruse to get us to form an alliance with you?" The question was said with sharp precise words, meant to pain those on the receiving end of them.

"So it is true then, that my friend has been taken?" Faramir asked, worry over the elf that he had grown quite fond of making him all but deaf to the harsh words of the she elf. She merely nodded her head, the grief over the loss of their leader weighing heavily upon her. The somber mood that had suddenly replaced her anger made Faramir very uncomfortable, and he quickly summoned servants and healers to take care of the party as he all but fled from the grief stricken elves who had lost so much in such a short time. He felt oddly out of place among them and thought it best that exact questions about the attack could wait for a later date. 

"I don't understand it, Lord Faramir, what kind of foe would not only be able to kill almost the entirety of an elven city's warriors and take Legolas, the greatest among them captive?" Beregond said, confusion and fear playing across his features.

"What kind of foe indeed," Faramir said thoughtfully, pondering the dreadful news they had received himself. The fact that the elves had been so completely weakened in a single blow, frightened him, to say the least. "Has any news come from, King Ellessar? Has he received my letter?" Faramir asked, hoping that his new lord might be able to share some information that he, himself had not yet discovered about who may be once more organizing the orcs.

"He has sent us no word, Sir, but Gondor is not as close as it seems, and he is probably coming here himself, if I know him at all," Beregond said, attempting to reassure his lord. He knew only to well how trying it was on Faramir to learn of his good friend's capture. He, himself, was worried for the young elven lord that had managed to work his way into Gondor, and Rohan's hearts.

"I hope you're right, my friend, I truly hope so," Faramir said, moving to the window and gazing out across the forest. "Where are you, Legolas?" He sighed looking out over his land as if the trees could give him an answer. They remained silent, and Faramir closed his eyes, praying to the Valar that his friend would be returned to them.

Okay people, there's a short one for you to enjoy. My next update will probably be soon as I am not completely satisfied with where this one leaves off. NEXT CHAPTER WILL INCLUDE ARAGORN, FARAMIR, AND MAYBE EVEN SOME MORE LEGO-TORTURE! IT ALL DEPENDS ON WHETHER OR NOT YOU LAZY BUMS DECIDE TO REVIEW!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Peace 

Hobbit Killer 


	4. It's all coming together now

A/N That was much better! It's amazing what a little Lego-Torture bribery can do for ones amount of reviews. Okay, folks, this chapter is going to be different than the others. It's gonna have a little bit of every thing mixed in. It's got your Aragorn, your Faramir, your favorite, Lego-Torture! I've also mixed in some background and other such foolishness about Voldaril and how he is controlling the orcs.

Oh, and for some reviewers who do not know the deal about Faramir in Ithilien, I give to you this passage. "Aragorn gave to Faramir Ithilien to be his princedom," (Tolkien 948). Sooo, there you go, Aragorn gave Faramir Ithilien to reign over and dwell in. For more details, se the afore sited page.

I TAKE BACK THE COMMENT ABOUT 'YALL BEING LAZY BUMS! IT WAS MERELY A SHALLOW AND UNFAIR TACTIC IN ORDER TO GAIN YOUR REVIEWS, DON'T KILL ME!

Chapter four:

It's all coming together 

Aragorn sighed in relief as the gates of Faramir's city at last came into view. Inwardly, he had to admit that his relief was not entirely due to the fact that he was that much closer to finding Legolas, but also, it was the fact that his rear end felt as though it would fall off at any moment. It seemed that he had spent to much time on his throne as of late, and not enough on his horse. As he and his companions reigned in their mounts, they experienced mixed emotions when they saw that the remaining Ithilien elves had made it safely to the city. They were glad to find them well, but saddened at how few they were in comparison to what their numbers had been. 

Faramir came running out to meet them as soon as he was informed of their arrival and immediately went to Aragorn who was in the process of dismounting from his horse. "I hoped it would be you that came, my friend, for my news, as you see, has become even more horrifying than previously," he said as his friend dismounted.

"Yes, I know, we received a visitor the same day that we received your message, and he had quite a distressing tale to tell." As Aragorn spoke, he gestured to another figure dismounting. At first, Faramir supposed it was one of his men, but, upon further inspection, he discovered that it was another elf. Legolas's butler if he remembered his visits to the elven colony correctly. He should have known Legolas would have sent someone to warn Aragorn, and the butler was one of his most trusted servants. 

"Yes, so I see. I must say, however, that I've got you beat as far as numbers go," Faramir said, motioning to the elves that had come from his halls when they heard Aragorn's company approaching. 

"Oh, good, they made it. I was worried over their wearabouts," Aragorn said with a sigh of relief. "At least when we find Legolas he will be able to breath easier with the knowledge that his people have made it to safety." He purposely failed to mention that they may never see Legolas again, and that it was very likely that they would never see their elven friend breath again.

"Aye, and he will also be glad that his butler made it to Gondor to warn you. After all, he does care deeply for you, Aragorn," Faramir added, giving his king a sad smile, for what he said was true. It was obvious to even the most simple of people the deep bond that the man and elf had shared. Their obviously inside jokes and the way they communicated without words from time to time made it clear that the two had a long history, and thought of each other as brothers would. Faramir's heart clenched at that thought, his mind straying to the loss of his own brother and the grief it had caused him. He then decided that he would do anything within his power to make sure that Aragorn wouldn't have to live through the same loss.

"Fear not, my friends, I will see that you two are not separated, just hang on."

~~~~~~~~~~

At that particular moment, hanging on was not as appealing an option to Legolas as he swallowed a cry of pain as his leg was brutally snapped for the second time. His other limbs hung uselessly about him, all of them having been broken. Even the bones in his hands, that were so prized by the talented archer, had been savagely broken in two. Legolas tried not to despair when he thought of his now mutilated hands. He tried to convince himself that help would come in time for them to be set, for the damage to be repaired, but he knew it was not possible.

The thought of no longer being able to be an archery was a difficult thought to bare, and Legolas almost cursed himself for his stubbornness. If he had only given in they would not have gone that far, for, though Voldaril was most certainly no longer an elf that believed in their values, even he cringed at the thought of thus debilitating this one. Legolas's lack of response to even that treatment, however, had released the vile creature of any compassion, and he cruelly ordered the limbs broken once more, though in a different place, and Legolas was now experiencing the agony all over again.

Oh why did he have to be so hard headed! But then he remembered, Aragorn. If he gave in now it would be betraying his best friend and brother in heart. With those thoughts, Legolas grit his teeth once more, just as his other leg was again broken. 

Voldaril had grown beyond anger and it only rose when he looked down at the prone elf who had, when his left arm was rebroken, had lapsed into unconsciousness. He could not understand why this child had such loyalties to that filthy trouble causing ranger, that had somehow managed to become the King of Men. Honestly, he had never liked the creature, not even if he was his princes best friend. He had always been open about his displeasure, trying to convince Thranduil that the young edain was not to be trusted, but Thranduil would not listen, saying it was nonsense and to not doubt his son's ability to judge one's character. This would teach Thranduil to not listen to his advisors.

Growing tired of the inactivity of his, "guest," Voldaril decided to speed up Legolas's waking process. All it required was a bucket of water and plenty of salt. Legolas nearly jumped to his feet as the mixture was pored over his abused body, causing the various wounds and welts he had acquired to burn anew.

"It was growing rather dull around here, so I decided that you and I should have a little talk. No whips, no beating. At least until I grow tired of the conversation," the last part was added almost as an after thought, and Legolas wondered vaguely how long it would take for Voldaril to, "grow tired of the conversation." He had a suspicion that it wouldn't be long.

"Of what do wish to speak, traitor?" Legolas asked, venom dripping from every syllable. Voldaril chose to ignore the young one's anger for the moment, and instead answered his question.

"Well, I have always wondered what drives a young elf in his prime to forsake his people, his father, his king, and go live among mortals," Voldaril said in a voice that seemed to hold actual curiosity.

"Why would you wonder at that when you know first hand how close me and Estel are, you were, after all the one that seemed to hate it the most?" Legolas said still letting his anger shine through. Again, Voldaril ignored him. "Now I have a question of my own. Do not feel the need to answer, I shall simply work it out out loud, and you can tell me if I'm on the right track," Legolas continued, smiling at the way Voldaril stiffened.

"How does an elf become the leader of orcs?" Legolas asked himself, pondering. "It was probably not something the orcs would have normally submitted to, considering that they hate all of our kin intensely. No, you would have had to have something pretty good to offer them, and seeing how dependent these creatures are on you, I would guess it was a while ago, before you decided to use them to destroy my colony and slaughter my people. But if that was the case, then what did they have to offer you in exchange?" Suddenly, Legolas's eyes widened with realization and he whipped his head around to look right at Voldaril. 

"It was when you went missing ten years ago for about a week. You were captured by them, and in exchange for your miserable life, you used our people as a bargaining chip. That is why all those elves have turned up dead! You told the orcs where to find them and when. They then grew dependent on the food they stole from our patrols and started calling you their master!" Legolas shouted triumphantly, having pieced together two mysteries at once.

"That is not true!" Voldaril cried, losing all pretense of calmness. 

"It is! You begged them to spare you and in return offered the lives of your own people! You disgust me, coward," Legolas shouted back, smugness and disgust mingling on his features.

"You would have done the same had you any intelligence and only the resources at my disposal!" Voldaril shot back in a feeble attempt to justify what he had done, even if in his heart he knew it wasn't true.

"No, Voldaril, I would never beg, nor would I place my people up as a bargaining chip, just to maintain my own life!" Legolas would have said more, but was silenced by a punch full in the face. He was mildly surprised to see that it had been Voldaril himself who had administered the punishment, instead of one of his lackeys.

"I do believe that I have grown tired of this conversation, Legolas," Voldaril said icily, even as he subtly nursed his hurting hand. "I think I'm ready for some entertainment."

Alrighty then, I know it was a bad ending, but trust me I'm working on 'em. So there's your next chapter, hopefully that answered any questions you might have had about my poorly named villain. I hoped you liked it, and always remember....uhhh...oh yeah! REVIEW, PLEASE I NEED AN E-MAIL THAT ISN'T LAME!

Hey, what did those of you that got it think of the extended edition of The Two Towers? Wasn't it sweet?

Hey, 30 days 'til Christmas!

(no offense to non-Christians.)

Peace

Hobbit Killer 


	5. Beware the anger of the Elven King

A/N Hey, wassup peeps? It's been a while since my last update and I thought it was about time for another. Okay, this chapter's got another mix bag with some Thranduil, a dash of Aragorn and Faramir, and a pinch of Legolas torture. Well, that's it.

Chapter five:

Beware the Anger of the Elven King

"Lord Thranduil?" The messenger asked nervously, poking his head through the door he had been shown. He was not exactly looking forward to the meeting ahead of him and he wondered what he had ever done to make King Ellessar send him to Mirkwood to inform King Thranduil of his son's capture. 

Thranduil looked up at the visitor, agitated that someone would try to interrupt him while he was working. His rage was stemmed, however, when he realized it was a man of Gondor. "What can I do for you?"

The messenger bowed low, swallowing audibly before giving his message. "My Lord, your son, Lord Legolas, has been captured by enemies of Gondor and Rohan. His colony has also been destroyed with hardly any survivors."

"WHAT!" The messenger cringed at the King's booming voice, once again questioning where he had done wrong. "HOW COULD ARAGORN LET THAT HAPPEN! I KNEW I SHOULDN'T HAVE LET THAT BOY HAVE SUCH AN INFLUENCE OVER MY SON..." Thranduil continued his tirade even as the man slipped out of the room, fleeing to the room he had been given, praying the king wouldn't notice his absence, or shoot the messenger. He just hoped the elf wouldn't take his anger out on King Ellessar, though, judging by the other's reaction, he wasn't feeling very confident.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"I suppose Thranduil has received my message by now," Aragorn said as he took a seat at the head of the table. He almost thought he had heard Thranduil's scream of rage just now and felt truly sorry for the messenger that he had sent out. 

"Oh good, I look forward to him coming here and ripping my head off," Faramir muttered, taking his seat at the right hand of Aragorn. "The last time something like this happened, he threatened to feed me to the spiders."

Aragorn laughed at that comment, remembering well the incident. Legolas and Faramir had been scouting Ithilien shortly after moving there when there were still many evil things living there in the shadow of Mordor. They had run into an orc party that had been down on its luck and was rather hungry for man flesh. The resulting battle had led to a lost tooth for Faramir as well as several broken ribs, and Legolas with two arrow wounds, one of which turned out to have been poisoned. Legolas had nearly died, as had Faramir after Thranduil got word of the escapade. Luckily for him, Aragorn had been there to somewhat calm the worried king as he had learned through his many misadventures with the prince.

"I wouldn't worry about your head so much as mine. When Legolas decided to move here, I promised Thranduil he'd be safe within Gondor's borders. He's going to kill me," Aragorn moaned, putting his head in his hands as the meal was served. It wasn't that he was truly afraid of Thranduil, it was that he couldn't believe he had failed in that trust. He had given his word to protect the little colony and it had been virtually destroyed right under his nose without even his knowledge of it happening.

"Well, we shouldn't worry about that at this moment, Aragorn. Right now we must think of a plan to get Legolas out of there without risking your security, since I know you won't be left behind," Faramir said most reasonably around a bite of beef. 

"You should be glad Eowen's in Rohan. She'd _ bite_ your head off to see you talk while you eat," Aragorn commented, making the Steward laugh.

"Hey, what better to do when your wife is absent than everything she hates?" he responded, and the two men burst out into that obnoxious laughter that only men can master. "But seriously, we need an attack strategy if we are to rescue Legolas before what ever fiend that has him realizes that he will not be of use to them for information," Faramir said, looking at his king for any suggestions.

Aragorn, for his part, had fallen into deep thought. It was certainly true that he would not be left behind when the rescue party set out, but he knew that he could not be as careless as he used to be. If he was captured as well, it could mean the end of Gondor, something he couldn't allow on any accounts. So, how was he to help rescue Legolas and still make sure he was out of danger. "Perhaps we should find him and then make up a rescue plan after we know the layout of the orc hideout," he suggested going with his fly-by-the-seat-of-your-pants instincts.

"We could do that," Faramir said, turning the idea over in his head. "But I fear that it will be difficult to not just charge in there if we see Legolas. Orcs have him and they're not notorious for treating their captives well," he continued with a frown. Aragorn was usually a very well restrained person but....this was Legolas. The King and the Prince were as close as twin brothers and it was doubtful that he would be able to control his rage if, as they all feared, Legolas was being ill treated.

"What other options have we, Faramir?" Aragorn cried, growing annoyed. "We know nothing of our enemies nor do we know anything of the place he is being held. We cannot make a plan without this information. You should know this from your time as a ranger in Ithilien."

Seeing the truth in Aragorn's statement, Faramir relented. "Fine, but we are taking your entire escort plus my own guard or, king or no, I will lock you in here and force you to clean the kitchens."

The thought of having to clean his own steward's kitchens was to funny and Aragorn couldn't help but laugh at the threat. "Are you sure I won't just make matters worse. After all, when my father made me and Legolas clean the kitchens, we usually made matters worse," he said, recalling the old punishment. He sobered then, thinking of his friend. He almost felt like kicking himself for having such a good time while Legolas was out in the wilds somewhere held by some evil villain just because he was a good friend to the King of Gondor. Some friend, laughing and idling while his best friend was in the hands of his enemies. He only prayed he'd make in time to save him.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Hello, your Highness," Voldaril called cheerily into the cramped cell his captive was sleeping in. "Isn't it a beautiful day?"

Legolas merely glared at the older elf looking as though he would very much like to rip the villain's tongue out of his mouth and skip rope with it.

"My, aren't we cheerful today. Honestly Young Prince, you shouldn't glare at me like that after I have given you such fine hospitality," Voldaril said without changing the sing song in his voice.

Legolas didn't take the preferred bait but rather asked, " Why are you so cheerful, Traitor? Have killed more innocents lately?" 

Suddenly Voldaril ran into the cell, and, before he could put up any defense, grabbed Legolas's hair and smashed his head into the wall behind him. "You know, I don't like that attitude of yours Young One, and the reason why I am so cheerful is that, today, I will finally be able to properly teach you your place." Having said this, he let go of the hair and turned to the orcs he had brought with him. "Bring him," he ordered and the orcs quickly rushed to do his bidding, grabbing him and dragging him behind them.

Legolas, for his part, gasped in pain as his broken limbs dragged across the rough ground of the cave in which he was being held. The fact that this elf had chosen such a place for a layer proved even more so that this creature had long ago stopped being a true elf. He was dragged quite a long way until they came to the torture room, a room he had come to know very well during his time in Voldaril's "care".

There was something new there today, though. A hole had been dug, just big enough for a man to stand upright without hitting his head. He also noticed that every light in the room had been extinguished and the only way they could see was by a torch that Voldaril was carrying.

"You have been assigned new rooms, Legolas. From now on there will be no more of our delightful torture sessions. All you are going to do is stay in this hole. That should be easy enough," Voldaril said, a cruel smirk on his face as he watched Legolas look at the hole in terror. He may not be a true elf anymore, but he remembered being one, and he knew how much his kind loathed inclosed spaces and the starless dark. "Throw him in and lock the top."

Legolas struggled as best as he could with absolutely no useful limbs, but it was futile. He was roughly forced into the hole and a heavy mesh door was closed over top of him, making escape impossible but allowing him to breath. And then they left him alone, in the dark, in a hole and they didn't come back.

ALRIGHTY THEN. So their gonna starve poor Leggy and try and make him lose his mind. That's not very nice. Oh well! Hey, I don't have a muse to yell at me so what do I care? Any way, you know the drill. READ AND REVIEW SO I CAN HAVE SOME NICE E-MAIL WHEN I GET BACK FROM THE GATOR BOWL! Pleeeeeeeeeeeeeeaaaaaaaaaaase?

Wow, that was pathetic. Anywho.

Peace,

Hobbit Killer 


	6. On the War Path

A/N I'm back, did you miss me? Of course you did. Anywho, I just want to let you know that I'm not dead and I'm really sorry for the delay. I hope you enjoy this new chapter, I think the plot is going to take an interesting twist.  
  
Chapter six: On the Warpath  
  
Thranduil was having trouble controlling his anger as he and his company rode through the lands of men on their way to Gondor. The elven king wanted to have a word with a certain ranger about broken promises, and he didn't want to do it through a messenger. Aragorn had sworn to him that Legolas's colony would be well protected and was in no way a target for enemy forces. So much for men's promises.  
  
Crossing the river into the kingdom of Gondor, Thranduil's guards became aware of another rider approaching. Drawing their bows, they watched the approaching rider with wariness as it had yet to identify itself. "My lord, shall we shoot?" asked one, looking to his King.  
  
"Come now, don't you recognize me, My King?" shouted the rider as he came within range. "It is I, Voldaril!"  
  
"Hold your fire!" Thranduil commanded, recognizing his advisors voice. As his friend approached, Thranduil clasped hands with him. "Glad am I to see you in one piece, mellon, I thought that you might have perished in the attack, or been captured as my son," Thranduil said, relief shining in his eyes.  
  
"Nay, I escaped the destruction, though many unfortunate souls did not. I tried to warn Legolas that that ranger had turned on him but he would not believe me. I knew us going to Ithilien was not a good idea," Voldaril said, a false lament lacing his tone.  
  
"What do you mean the ranger turned on you?" Thranduil demanded, his rage growing at the thought that Aragorn might have had some part in the deaths of his people.  
  
"Did he not tell you?" Voldaril said with mock surprise. "He traded the colony in exchange for the lives of one of his patrols. We only found out when the orcs attacked us. I thought the king would at least have the backbone to tell his best friend's father why his son is currently in the filthy hands of orcs," Voldaril said, barely containing his sneer at the anger he could see blazing in Thranduil's eyes.  
  
"Do you mean to tell me that that man sold my son for the pathetic lives of a few humans! How do you know this?" the king raged.  
  
"From the orcs," Voldaril said, trying anger this time. "They took those of us that are not warriors captive for a while. One night I heard them joking about the foolishness of the human king that handed them one of the most influential people in all of Arda. It was that same night that Prince Legolas came and rescued us. We were all freed, but Legolas...he was taken."  
  
Thranduil couldn't listen any longer. Beckoning his advisor to join them, he started riding once more at an even greater pace. This kind of atrocity meant war.  
  
Aragorn watched the cave entrance in silence, observing the movement of the orcs just beyond its entrance. They had found the encampment two days ago and had been waiting for the opportune moment to enter and search out Legolas. Last night, it seemed that it had presented itself. A tall cloaked figure had left the cave last night and a closer scout had informed him that this was the one they called their master. With the person in charge absent, it would be easier to gain intelligence about the whereabouts of the guards and their missing elven lord.  
  
Unfortunately someone that had enough skill to destroy an entire elven population would not be easy to take down. They would not be able to actually rescue Legolas for a while longer, a thought that didn't rest easily on Aragorn's shoulders. Motioning to Faramir, he gave the silent command to cover him as he maneuvered around the edges of the trees moving closer to the cave entrance. In his years as king he had not lost his almost elvish stealth and moved undetected into the darkness of the cave, leaving the orc guards in blissful ignorance before going in search of his friend.  
  
How long had he been in this hole or hell, each was an equal description of his new prison. He had given up keeping his eyes open, for it had done nothing to improve his ability to see into the complete black that surrounded him now. Not that there was anything to see aside from the hole that he was buried in.  
  
Buried, in the dark, in a cave. He had had no food since being put in here. What was that? Something was in the room, waiting. For what he didn't know, but something was in there he was certain. Calm down, Legolas this is just what he wants. Was the hole shrinking?  
  
By Valar, he was going to die in here.  
  
Thought I'd try something new with the hole torture thing. Yes, Thranduil is quite pissed. If the whole Voldaril thing confused you, here's what happened. Thranduil thinks that Voldaril has been in Ithilien with Legolas when in actuality he's been directing the orcs in their war against Aragorn. Get it? Got it? Good.  
  
Anywho where was I? Oh yes, REVIEWREVIEWREVIEW and, oh yeah, REVIEW!  
  
Peace, Hobbit Killer 


	7. Search Without Rescue

A/N I actually haven't reached either of the goals I set for reviews yet, but since those that did review were so eager to hear more of this particular story and since I'm in a writing kind of mood today, I'll get started on this chapter anyway.

Prisoner of War

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Chapter seven:

Search Without Rescue

Aragorn pressed his body against the wall, all his limbs spread out so he could as flat against the structure as possible. Silently, he waited for a small group of orcs to pass, doubtless going to relieve the guards defending the outer perimeter of the fortress. When he heard them finally passed, Aragorn resisted the temptation to sigh in relief, knowing they would hear him in the echoes of the stone hallway.

The former ranger had been maneuvering about the tunnels of the cave for hours now, and still had not discovered his friend's location, nor any information as to who might be leading the reunified orcs. By this time, Aragorn was beginning to fear that there may have been multiple strongholds formed already and this new enemy was stronger than any of them had anticipated. Thoughts of turning back and telling his people there was nothing to be found here and to deep searching for another hole the creatures could have stashed themselves away in when he caught a whiff of something.

Blood. Aragorn had fought to many battles to not recognize the smell. It was the same coppery sent that haunted his dreams still in spite of the fragile peace that had settled over the land. It reeked from behind the door a few feet away. _Legolas._

With the silence of a panther in pursuit of its prey, Aragorn approached the door, ever mindful of sounds from within. Hearing none, the man reached for the door handle, giving it an exploratory pull. He was surprised to find the door unlocked and he felt doubts as to this being the room that held his friend. _Unless of course Legolas is so far gone he can no longer be a threat to them. _Aragorn didn't allow the thought to linger on the image of his friend, beaten and broken in this sunless abyss.

With the caution one can only gain through the experience of having been too reckless too many times, Aragorn slid through the door, opening it only a crack. What he saw both relieved and horrified him, for, while he did not find his friend's fading body, his eyes widened in horror at the recognition of this particular room's purpose.

It was a chamber built solely to inflict pain, purely to torture innocent souls into a degradation of their once proud selves. Aragorn realized, with revolting clarity that his friend was not unfamiliar with this place and his blood boiled at the thought of it. No longer able to stand the sight of elvish blood coating the many foul mechanisms, Aragorn turned to leave and continue his search when the sound of soft, panicked breathing caught his attention.

Where is that coming from? Aragorn wondered, his eyes searching the room where he knew the sound to be from. It was then that a tiny glint of light off of metal was caught in his exceptional vision. Slowly, Aragorn moved to investigate, reasoning that if any who would wish him harm were present, they could have killed him many times over by now.

As he moved toward where he had seen the glint, Aragorn had a strange feeling of foreboding take over him even though the man wasn't even certain as to what he looked for. Suddenly, the feel of the earth under his feet change into metal and the king's attention was drawn downward. He gasped as his gaze fell upon a square of heavy mesh covering a crudely dug hole in the ground, but it was what he saw under the metal that caused the man's breath to catch.

A blonde head was just visible through the tiny spaces between the thick metal wires as well as the very tips of pointed ears. "Legolas," Aragorn whispered, shocked to find the elf in such a place.

The soft voice startled the prince from the light sleep he had managed to fall into, having been taken to the level of exhaustion in his fear. "Who's there?" he asked, his voice quavering in a way that made Aragorn want to weep so much fear was in it.

"Legolas," Aragorn said again, this time addressing the elf. "It's me, Estel."

"Estel?" Legolas said, his voice filled with a childish hope.

"Yes, it's me, Mellon nin," Aragorn reassured the distraught elven prince. "Oh, Legolas. What have they done to you?" he asked, seeing the streaks of blood in Legolas's hair.

Legolas, however, was not listening. The only thing going through his mind at that moment was that his friend would come. Estel had come. Suddenly, Legolas's acute hearing, which had been made more so without the use of his eyes these past few days, caught the sound of shuffling feet approaching his room. "Estel," he said urgently. "You must go now, I hear orcs coming down the corridor and if you are to have any chance of rescuing me, you must leave now before the get too close!"

Aragorn, though unable to hear what his friend heard, trusted that Legolas's words were true, and quickly scrambled to his feet. But before he left he asked, "Who?"

Knowing who the who was Aragorn spoke of, Legolas answered. "Voldaril."

Aragorn nodded, and, with a hushed, "Farewell," he left having gained the information he needed, though it shocked and enraged him. For, while he had never enjoyed the elven advisor's company, he would have never thought that a member of his friend's kin that had lived so long in shadow would be capable of such atrocities.

The man made his way out of the fortress with a great deal more ease than when he got in as he was no longer searching every corridor and room for signs of that which he searched for, and he was out within an hour.

Meanwhile, Legolas felt calm for the first time since he had been dumped in his hole. True, he was starving, both from lack of food and lack of living things, but he had hope now, and that was more filling to him than any maggoty bread the orcs could have given him. It had been just in time too, for he had come to the edge of his sanity and his tolerance. If Aragorn had not shown up when he did…it was to horrible to think of. But everything would be alright now, because now Estel had found him.

A/N Okay peeps, there's your long awaited chapter. I know, it's not that long, but I didn't want to stick Thranduil in this chapter. I wanted him to wait until Aragorn had spoken to Legolas and was out of the hole.

I will, however, continue with Thranduil and Voldaril in the next chapter so stay tuned.

You know the secret to getting me to update, **REVIEWREVIEWREVIEWREVIEWREVIEWREVIEWREVIEWREVIEW **AND **REVIEW!**

Peace,

Hobbit Killer


	8. Falling Aliances

A/N Okay, I started this chapter about two months ago and have finally gotten to update it based on a review from SPUW Commander and so you should thank them if you are pleased with this development.

A warning to Legolas/Aragorn/Faramir fans, this chapter is mostly about Thranduil and is a demonstration of how incredibly mad he is now.

****

Chapter eight:

Falling alliances

Thranduil set a quick pace as they made their way to Minas Tirith, his face set in a grim path that was usually saved for war against orcs. The elven king was beyond angry or even furious so hot the blood in his veins boiled. Just the thought of Aragorn selling his son for a few mere mortals set fire to his volatile temper and woe be he that stood in Thranduil's way now.

From his own spot, Voldaril was trying his hardest to keep his face free of all smugness and condescension as he watched his former king fume at his side. This was just the reaction he had been hoping for from Thranduil and he was delighted beyond description to see all of his plans coming to their proper ends.

Their pace grew even more fervent as the shining white gem that was Minas Tirith shimmered in the pale glow of early morning. _This is it, _thought the fallen elf gleefully. _Ellessar will never know what hit him._

Faramir didn't bother to repress his relief at seeing Aragorn enter the camp site. The longer the man had stayed in there, the more the steward questioned his sanity when he had allowed his king to go into the lair of the enemy without backup or any knowledge of the fortress's layout. "Thank the Valar," he said, clasping the king's arm.

"What, you didn't trust me?" Aragorn asked, laughing at the relief on the younger man's face.

"Can you blame me for not?" asked Faramir. "You are my king and I've heard the stories."

Aragorn sobered at the comment. "I truly am sorry," he said. "It's just that I didn't trust anyone else with the task. After all, I, as one that has been a ranger more than sixty years, was the most qualified for the task."

Faramir sighed in frustration. "Yes, you're right about that," he said, "but that doesn't mean I have to be happy about it."

Aragorn laughed. "I would certainly hope not otherwise I'd fear that my steward no longer held me in his favor," he said directing a warm smile at his friend.

There was a slight pause in the conversation before Faramir said, "So, what _did_ you find out, Aragorn?" he asked anxiously. "Was Legolas there? Does the prince still live?"

"He was there," said Aragorn, not wishing to elaborate, but knowing he must if they were to save Legolas. "But he is badly hurt and buried underground, we must act quickly if we are to save him, for I have a feeling that, if we wait until these orcs' master returns, we may never be able to get him out of that damned hole."

Faramir nodded morosely, grieved at the news of the elf's injured state. "Then we shall form a plan and act on it as soon as possible," he said, his resolve evident in his tone.

Aragorn nodded, a lock of fierce determination on his face. Blood would be spilled soon and they would get his friend back.

"My Lady?" Arwen looked up at the voice and smiled at the sight of her young attendant. "Some riders are approaching the city bearing the colors of Mirkwood, amongst them is King Thranduil."

Arwen's smile left her face at that. "Does he request an audience by any chance?" she asked tentatively, hoping that Thranduil would at least delay the explosion that was about to occur.

"I'm afraid he does, My Lady," said the maid looking at the queen with sympathy. Thranduil's temper was the stuff of legend even before his son's heroic part in the War of the Ring thrust him into the conscious minds of the mortal world. She would hate to be in her lady's place right now, for she would hate to take the brunt of his anger that he surely must hold due his son's capture within Gondorian borders.

Arwen sighed, apparently gathering her wits about her before she stood from her seat where she had been writing a letter to her dear brothers and left to see to the King of Eryn Lasgallen.

"Lord Thranduil?" Thranduil abruptly stopped his pacing and spun on his heal at the voice of the Evenstar. He quickly composed himself, however, not wishing to show his surprise at being met by the lady instead of her husband.

"Lady Arwen," he said curtly glancing about the room to see if Aragorn had arrived through some other entrance. Not seeing him, he turned to the she-elf. "Where is your husband?" he asked icily. "I think he owes me an explanation for this treachery."

Arwen's own temper lit at that. "How dare you?" she cried indignantly. "Ever has my husband been an ally to your people, especially Legolas! How dare you label my love so!"

"Well what would you call it then, Undomiel?" shouted Thranduil. "My son's captivity is his doing!"

"You can not put the blame for this incident on his shoulders Thranduil!" Arwen replied all thought of decorum lost at Thranduil's accusation.

"WATCH ME!" roared Thranduil, his face flushing. "Now," he said with hardly more restraint than his previous comment, "I will ask you again, where is your husband?"

Arwen's face was considerably flush itself after the argument, though her anger had been stemmed somewhat by the shock of the completeness of Thranduil's anger. "He is exactly where his heart is, looking for your son!"

This gave Thranduil pause, but the elf quickly recovered. "Yes, I'm sure his guilt has driven him from the safety and comfort of these halls to search out my son who he left to torment and perhaps death," he said.

"Thranduil Oropherion, if you insist on insulting my husband so, I swear that I will have you, king or no, thrown out of this city without remorse," said Arwen boldly, squaring her shoulder and staring down the older elf.

"I WILL LEAVE," cried Thranduil, "WHEN YOU TELL ME WHERE I MAY FIND THE RANGER!"

"So you can explode at him?" asked Arwen angrily.

"I THINK I HAVE THE RIGHT TO!"

Arwen sighed, the argument wearying her. "I give up," she said with resignation. She was just no match for the infamous arguing abilities of Thranduil. "He is in Ithilien. He's gone to meet Lord Faramir and they were going to join forces to rescue your son. That is also where the elves that have survived the massacre have taken up if you would like to see them as well."

"Ithilien?" repeated Thranduil. At Arwen's nod, he promptly turned on his heal and left the hall with out so much as a nod farewell.

Voldaril was waiting just outside the doors desperately disguising his gleeful smile under his hood in the presence of the Tower Guard. When Thranduil exited with that purposeful stride that was so often the king's gate, he quickly moved to walk at his side.

"So?" he said with false interest.

"We go to Ithilien," said Thranduil curtly, his gaze a dark as his companion's heart.

A/N Okay, this is a gift to all of you that have remained faithful to me in my long breaks between chapters. If I get ten reviews for this chapter, I'll update within a week of getting my tenth review even if it's bad.

Thank you all of you that have read this it is always appreciated.

Peace until next time,

Hobbit Killer


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